


You Took a Bullet and Survived

by cathRN26



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Artist Buddies, Artist boyfriends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, M/M, Photography Major Keith, Visual Arts Major Lotor, life is strange au, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathRN26/pseuds/cathRN26
Summary: When attending Oriande Academy, Keith expected to spend a relaxing year studying photography at a prestigious art school.  What he didn’t expect was to meet a charming young man by the name of Lotor and be caught in the center of a disappearance case, a broken family, and a mysterious storm that could change everything.Or...The four times Keith saved Lotor’s life, and the one time he didn’t.





	1. Snapshot Over a Gunshot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE Life is Strange and I LOVE Keitor, so here we go.
> 
> Also, if you've ever watched/played Life is Strange, you probably know the gist of what's coming, but I will be deviating from the original game to create a slightly different storyline. I put a lot of thought into how to merge the two universes so I really hope you enjoy.

The water hit his face with a biting chill.

The deadline for the Everyday Heroes photography contest was fast approaching, and Keith still had nothing.  He could enter an old photo, but none of his previous works seemed good enough.  Nothing fit the theme.  This was a national competition, a huge opportunity for him, and he didn’t have a clue on what to do.

He needed to clear his head.  Washing his face in the bathroom sink was not helping as much as he’d hoped.

As he prepared to return to class, he heard the bathroom door open.  The one entering was talking loudly and angrily into his phone.  His voice was smooth, deep, and laced with an English accent.

“I’m not coming home, Father.  I wish to stay here and pursue my _own_ interests, not entertain the idea of yours.”

Keith ducked into a stall and hid.  He hopped onto the toilet seat to hide his feet and prayed that the person didn’t hear him.

“I don’t see why you’re so against my enrollment at Oriande Academy.  It has an internationally recognized arts program.  Mother attended here in her youth.”

Carefully, Keith leaned forward and peered through the crack between the stall door and its hinges.  He spotted a curtain of long white hair and the back of a deep blue sweater, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  The man was leaning over the sink counter.

“This is _my_ career, and this is _my_ decision.  I don’t think you have the –”

Keith’s footing slipped.  He leaned to far forward, causing his boot to squeak against the plastic seat.  “ _Shit_ ,” he muttered.

The man quieted, lowering his phone as he scanned the room.  Keith caught a glimpse of his face –

He must have stood an entire head – no, _two_ – taller than Keith himself, and his skin was a rich shade of tawny brown.  His white hair fell over his shoulders and flowed down to his hip, tied back loosely with an elastic.  His eyes were a brilliant ultramarine, sharp and piercing and lined with jet black.

He was the most beautiful man Keith had ever laid eyes on.  He was entirely enamored by the man, with his ethereal appearance that left him looking like a prince from another planet.  His presence would leave anyone in awe.

Or struck with fear.

The mysterious man raised the phone to his ear once again.  “I’ll call you back later.  I have to return to class.”  He hung up, tucking the phone away in his pocket before calling out, “Who’s there?”

 _Guess the jig is up_.  Keith cracked open the bathroom stall, the door creaking as it opened.  The man’s eyes shot immediately to him, head tilted in curiosity.  Keith gave him an awkward smile.

“Uh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said.

“Did you hear everything?” the man asked.

Keith’s smile slipped.  “Everything since you came in here.  Was I not supposed to?”

“No,” the man said with a frown.  He sighed in resignation and ran a hand through his thick hair.  “But, it wasn’t a conversation of importance, or of great secrecy.  It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?  It seemed personal.”

“Things aren’t always as they seem.  Besides, it’s past us.  There’s nothing you can do, so let’s move on.  It’s no trivial matter, anyway.”  The man turned to the sink and started to scrub away at his hands.  That was when Keith noticed that his hands were stained with black charcoal.

“So, you’re a visual arts student?” Keith asked.

The man hummed in confirmation.  “And you?  Your field of study?”

“Photography.”  Keith leaned against the wall next to the sinks.  “I don’t recognize you.  Are you new?”

“I am.  I recently enrolled this semester.”  He reached for a paper towel to dry off his relatively clean hands.  Black still invaded the divots in his skin and the space underneath his fingernails, but it would take more than a simple hand-washing to be rid of that.  He outstretched a newly dried hand to Keith in greeting.  “My name is Lotor.”  He hesitated for a moment, reeling back his hand before once again extending it with a cautious smile.  “I’m going to assume your hands have been washed prior.”

Keith suppressed a small laugh.  “They’re clean,” he said, reaching out to meet his hand.  “Keith.”

“Well, this was a pleasant little run-in, but I must be returning to class,” Lotor said.  “Perhaps we’ll meet again in the future.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, “maybe.”

~~~~~

“Have you figured out what you’re entering in the contest yet?” Shiro asked.  His feet crunched on the grass as he and Keith hiked up the rough path.  “The deadline is in a few weeks, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said, a stern frown on his face.  “I’m blanking.  I’m having artblock.”

Shiro smile sympathetically.  He clapped a hand onto Keith’s shoulder.  “Well, maybe this walk will do you some good.  Clear your mind and your senses.  You bring your camera?”

Keith scoffed, shaking his head as a small smile worked its way onto his lips.  “Of course.  Never leave home without it.”

“Polaroid or digital?”

“Polaroid,” Keith said, pulling it out of his bag as proof.  “And a stack of film.  I think they’re more sentimental, more ephemeral.  Like they’re worth more, at least to me.”

“I can see that,” Shiro said with a grin.  “You only get one copy, so it holds more value.”

“Exactly.”  Keith looked down at the black and red camera in his hands before lifting it up to his face.  He turned towards his brother and grinned.  “Smile.”

“I already am,” Shiro laughed, the flash from the camera blinding him for a split second.  It took a few moments for the photo to print out, but the two of them were left with a simple photo of Shiro in the sun, trees blowing in the background.

Keith flapped the photo in the air for a bit before handing it to Shiro.  “Happy early birthday.”

“Gee, thanks.”  Shiro held the photo up to catch the light.  “Think this is good enough to enter in the contest?”

“Hm, as good as you look in that photo, I’m afraid not.”

“Ooh, ouch.”

A ringtone interrupted their peaceful hike.  Keith checked his phone, but it wasn’t his.  Shiro fished his own out of his back pocket and sighed.  He slid his thumb over the screen to answer.  “Hello?”

Keith stood in silence as Shiro spoke briefly on the phone.  He toed a few rocks on the path and kicked them to the side, aiming them at a nearby tree.

When Shiro hung up, he already knew what Shiro was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

“Work, right?  And you’ll have to leave?”

Shiro smiled sadly.  “Bingo.  I’m sorry, Keith, it’s an important case –”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, urging him to go.  “I’ll be fine.  I’m kind of an adult now, so you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’ll be home as soon as I finish.  Want me to drop you off there?”

Keith shook his head.  “I think I’ll stay out here and take some more photos.  I can walk home or catch the bus.  I’ll figure it out.”

As one last farewell, Shiro rustled his hair before turning to walk down back towards the bottom of the hill.  “Have fun, bud.  See you when I get back.”

With his companion gone, Keith jogged further up the trail towards the lighthouse.  It had lovely views of the town from cliff’s edge, capturing the beauty of the Altea Bay beside the clear waters of the beach.

He snapped pictures of the scenery as he went up.  The texture of the bark on the trees, a colorful bird that nestled on a bush, the line of ants as they marched through the dirt.  Every little detail caught his eye.  He even came across a deer – a doe, more specifically – trekking up the hill herself.  She had a neutral coat that bordered on a dark gray and large eyes framed with long black lashes.  Keith approached quietly, careful to avoid the fallen leaves and sticks on the ground.  He managed a few good photos before she ran off to go deeper into the trees, tucking the prints into his bag.

When he made it to the top of the hill, he looked over at the town, soaking in the gorgeous view of the small buildings and dimly lit signs by the beach.  His feet subconsciously moved towards the bench seated right near the edge so that he could sit, relax, and –

The bench was already taken.

“Keith?”  Lotor sat cross-legged in the center of the wooden bench, his bag resting to his left and a mountain of art supplies splayed out to his right.  A sketchbook sat on his lap.  “Oh, I apologize.  Is this your usual spot?”

On the inside, he was the tiniest bit annoyed that he wouldn’t be alone, but Keith brushed it off.  “It’s a public area.  I just like coming up here to think.”

Scooting over, Lotor moved his bag to the ground and motioned for Keith to join him.  “Come, sit.  We can share the space.”

He followed Lotor’s suggestion and sat down on the empty half of the bench while Lotor silently scribbled away in his sketchbook.  It was a colored illustration of the view from the top of the cliff.  The lines were rough, but every single one appeared to hold a certain significance to the final drawing.  Everything flowed together.  It melded into one beautiful drawing.

“I’m guessing that you like it,” Lotor said, breaking the silence.  He had a snarky grin on his face, one that Keith wanted to wipe away immediately.

“It’s… nice,” he said.  It was _more_ than nice, but Lotor didn’t need to know that.

“So, Keith, do you often visit here?  Or is this a rare occurrence?” Lotor asked.  He flipped to a new page of his sketchbook and began drawing guidelines for a new piece.

Keith shrugged.  “Pretty often.  Maybe once a week, at least.  It’s really… peaceful.  And calming.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed as well.  The nature here is quite fascinating.”

“So,” Keith started, “how’d you find this place?”

“I saw the lighthouse while I was drawing on the beach,” he explained.  “I asked for directions and here I am.”

“Hm.”

They didn’t speak for a while.  Instead, Keith watched as Lotor’s pencil marked the page, and Lotor worked diligently on his artwork.  The quiet was pleasant and refreshing.  Words weren’t necessary for enjoyment, and Keith of all people could appreciate that.

Keith began to take in the detail of the image before him, with Lotor hunched over his sketchbook, looking up at him every so often and flashing a charming smile before returning to his work.  His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, numerous strands falling out and over his face.  Occasionally, he would blow the hairs out of the way, but they would fall back into place.  His lips were pursed into a slight pout as he focused, his eyes seemed heavy-lidded.  Similar to when they met, he wore a soft auburn sweater with a button-up underneath, the fibers visible in the golden light of the approaching sunset.

The entire time, Lotor failed to notice Keith staring so intently at him.  Maybe it was a good thing that he was so immersed in his drawing.

It wasn’t until a small butterfly appeared and landed on the tip of his pencil that his concentration was broken.  The butterfly was a soft purple with black details, and its wings seemed to give off a slight glow.

Lotor chuckled at the sight.  “How lovely a specimen,” he noted, lifting the pencil to get a better look.  The butterfly remained where it landed.

Keith quickly grabbed for his camera, aiming it at Lotor while he was distracted.  The camera clicked, and the flash scared away the butterfly, but he already got what he wanted.

As the butterfly flew away, Lotor huffed indignantly.  Keith felt bad, but Lotor’s annoyance melted away once he felt Keith press something to his chest.

Fresh from his polaroid was a picture of Lotor, his eyes gleaming with admiration for the small butterfly that interrupted his drawing session.  The sunlight reflected off his hair to turn it gold, and every detail of the moment was captured in the small photo.

“Oh, Keith, this is magnificent!  You’ve got quite an eye for photography,” he said, his eyes lighting up once again as he looked at the photo.  “May I keep it?” he asked after a few seconds.

“Of course,” Keith said.  “Consider it a small gift.”

Lotor slid the photo into his wallet.  “It’s a wonderful gift.  If only I had something to give you in return.”

Keith laughed nervously.  “Oh, don’t worry about it.  You don’t have to –”

“Wait, I already do,” Lotor said with a grin, lifting his sketchbook for his companion to see.

Etched onto the paper with graphite was a portrait of Keith himself, looking towards the viewer.  His eyes were the most detailed part, with numerous dark strokes surrounding them.  His hair was done messily but somehow captured the very essence of who he was.  The drawing was done quickly; like the landscape drawing from earlier, it was rough, and yet it didn’t need to be cleaned up or fixed.  It was perfect.

Keith sat in awe.  “I – wow, it looks better than I do.”

“Nonsense.  Nothing could ever compare to the real thing,” Lotor said.  Keith felt his face heat up at the compliment, raising a hand to cover himself under the guise of clearing his throat.  Lotor, however, didn’t seem to notice as he gently tore the drawing from the spiral binding.  “For you.  Take it, as a sign of our newfound friendship.”

With a careful grasp, Keith took the drawing.  He turned back to Lotor and he felt the warmth of happiness spreading over his face.  “Thanks, Lotor.”

“So, new friend, I haven’t seen you since our little rendezvous in the restroom.  Do you not live on the campus?” Lotor asked.  He began to pack away his things as he spoke.

“Nope.  I live with my older brother.”

“I imagine that’s nice.  Even with my own private dorm, it’s still severely lacking compared to a real residence.”

Keith nodded.  “Yeah, it is nice.  I get my own room and bathroom, and someone to cook for me every day.”

“I _do_ miss the luxury of a good homecooked meal,” Lotor pondered sadly.  “As much as I’ve enjoyed my stay here, so far, there are things from home that I miss terribly.”

“You’re welcome to come over to my house anytime, Lotor.  If you want, that is,” Keith invited, his tone cautious.  Hopefully he wasn’t being too forward.  “I can, uh, give you my number?  So, we can chat and maybe hang out sometime?”

“I… would really like that.  Thank you, Keith.”  Lotor picked up his bag as he prepared to leave.  “And if you ever want to visit me at my dorm – though I doubt you would – you would be welcomed with open arms.”  He extended his phone to Keith to type in his number, which he did as fast as possible so Lotor could return to his dorm room.  “I’ll text you later, but feel free to text me first.”

“Wait,” Keith said, reaching out towards Lotor’s receding figure.  “You didn’t give me your number.”

“Flip over the drawing,” Lotor said with a knowing smile.

He did as he was told and –

There was a number.  A phone number, so neatly written in script that Keith would have thought was done by an eighteenth-century scribe, followed courtly by a small message to ‘ _Call or text, if you have the time’_.

Keith bit his lip as Lotor laughed and waved goodbye, and he could sense the redness creeping up to his face.

~~~~~

It was two in the morning.  And he couldn’t sleep.

_Keith: hey lotor are you up_

_Lotor: Yes.  Do you want to talk about something?_

_Keith: not really. but can i come over?_

_Lotor: Of course._

Keith wasn’t sure why his first instinct was to go to Lotor’s dorm room.  He supposed it was because he was easy to talk to.  Polite, but with a bit of sass, when appropriate.  A good listener who made interesting comments and could carry on a conversation if necessary.  There was something about the way they got along that was reminiscent of his relationship with Shiro, but… not like that, in a way.  It was different, new, and Keith had no idea what he was doing.

But that was fine.  He’d figure it out.  For now, he was trusting his instincts.  They had never steered him wrong before.

So, as his instincts told him to, he stole Shiro’s keys to the school building, rode his motorcycle down to the campus, and snuck into the boy’s dormitory, fully prepared to knock on Lotor’s door.  When he did so and received no answer, he tried again, slightly louder.  Still, nothing happened.

 _Did he fall back asleep or something?_ Keith wondered.  He decided to shoot Lotor another text.

He was left on read.

Keith frowned.  _Well, he’s awake, at least.  Maybe he changed his mind and realized he doesn’t want to see me this late – early?_

He left the dorms quickly, mindful not to make too much noise.  There was a slight feeling of hurt in his chest from being rejected like that after coming this far, but perhaps it was for the best.  He could ask what happened in the morning – if anything _did_ happen, and if he gathered the courage to do so.

That’s when he saw it.  Purple.

A lavender butterfly identical to the one from the lighthouse fluttered through the hallway, catching the moonlight on its wings.  Keith blinked in confusion, believing it to be a hallucination, but when he rubbed his eyes and still saw it flying around, he knew it was real. 

“What the…” he muttered.  He quickly fumbled for the camera hanging around his neck that was secured inside its case – the one that he almost hesitated to bring – before snapping a quick photo of the sight before it disappeared.  The photo printed out in mere moments, and he tucked it away into the case, along with the camera itself.

 _Back to finding Lotor_.

The butterfly slowly flew further down the hall and back towards Keith’s still-standing figure, as if beckoning for him to follow.

He did, and it led him towards the campus art room.

As he approached, he could see that the classroom door was open.  A feeling of relief went through him when he made out the shape of Lotor’s tall form, his unmistakable silver tresses tied into an elegant braid behind his back.  He was just about to call out to his friend when he realized he wasn’t alone.  Instead, a large man in dark clothing stood opposite Lotor, casting a menacing shadow across the room.

Keith pressed himself against the wall, just out of view of both Lotor and the mysterious man he was with.  He had a clear view of his friend, but his view the man was now hidden by the wall.

Lotor stood near one of the walls, his hand tightly gripping a pencil.  His eyebrows were knit tightly together, and his lips were pulled down into the most intimidating scowl Keith had ever seen.

He looked _pissed_.

“I already told my father I want to _stay here_ ,” he snarled.  “I’m happy here, unlike how I was at home.”

“Quit dreaming, Lotor,” the other man crooned.  His voice was chilling; it left a bad feeling in the pit of Keith’s stomach.  “You think _art_ is where you’ll find a place in this world?”

With a scoff, Lotor responded, “ _My mother_ did.  I think I’ll manage.”

“The Galra Technologies line needs an heir.”

“Then you take it, Sendak.  I know you want it.”

The man – Sendak – growled.  “This isn’t about _me_.  Your father wants _you_ to come back, safe, to London.”

“And I wish to stay at Oriande Academy, safe from the reach of that _witch_ my father has taken on as a wife.”

Sendak grinned, a malicious intent lying clearly behind his facial expression.  “There it is.  I knew there was another reason to you running off here.  You want to find your mommy, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” Lotor warned.  “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

“It was her mistake to come back here.  It cost her her life.”

“You don’t know she’s dead,” Lotor said.  “She disappeared, and I am going to find her.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Sendak said, shifting his position.  Something clicked.

Lotor’s face blanched.  Keith felt his heartrate increase.  “What are you doing with that?” Lotor asked.  His voice sounded so small, so delicate.

So _afraid_.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Sendak said with a sinister laugh, “but I’m not complaining.  I’ve dreamt of the day I would get to shoot you from the moment you were born.”

Keith edged towards the doorframe and peered in.  His blood chilled at the sight.

Barely a foot away from Lotor’s chest, Sendak held a gun pointed directly at his heart.

“My father will have your head,” Lotor said.  There was an obvious tremor in his voice.  “You kill me, and you kill your career.”

“Money can fix a lot of things.  Besides, who’s to say your father doesn’t already know?”

That, Lotor didn’t expect.  He didn’t think it was possible for his mood to sink even lower, but those words left his throat dry and his heart throbbing.

“Afterall, your father is the one who sent me to get you.”

Lotor backed away, hitting the art room wall.  His pencil dropped from his hand.

“ _He didn’t specify alive._ ”

“Lotor!”

Keith lunged forward through the door, his hand reaching for Lotor’s body, but –

Lotor slipped to the floor, red staining the front of his shirt.  His eyes were wide in shock and somehow, every bit of life was already lost from them.  Sendak stood over him, his gun still pointed towards Lotor’s body.  He was smiling.

The gunshot rang through the entire hall, deafening Keith’s ears until all he heard was white noise.

And then it happened.

It started off gradually, like the world slowed until it came to a complete stop.  But, it didn’t just freeze.  It began to _reverse_.

Lotor rose from the floor, the red of his blood seeping back into his body.  The bullet returned to the gun.  Sendak moved backwards to his former position.  Keith was pressed to the wall, out of sight.

“Don’t,” Lotor said, in an achingly familiar voice.  “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

_What the fuck just happened?_

Keith was shaking.  He glanced towards the door, and sure enough, Lotor was standing.  _Alive._

“It was her mistake to come back here.  It cost her her life.”

_I rewound time?_

“You don’t know she’s dead.  She disappeared, and I am going to find her.”

_I rewound time!_

Keith got up frantically, his entire body pumped with adrenaline.  He searched the hall and cursed under his breath about how dark it was.

_I can’t let him die.  I can’t let Lotor die._

Quiet as a mouse, he ran along the edge of the wall, heart racing as he heard Lotor and Sendak’s conversation getting closer and closer to the point where Lotor’s life was cut short.

“I’ve dreamt of the day I would get to shoot you from the moment you were born.”

“My father will have your head.”  Lotor’s uneven voice sent a jolt up Keith’s spine.  “You kill me, and you kill your career.”

“Money can fix a lot of things.”

Keith found it: the fire alarm.  He lifted the plastic casing and pulled the trigger before Sendak could do the same.

Alarms blared throughout the building.  Sprinklers were set off all over, raining down cold water.

“Gah! Shit –”

Keith ran back to the art room and nearly collided with Lotor as he bolted out.  “K-Keith?”

“No time,” Keith said, grabbing Lotor’s hand and making a run for the exit.

Lotor easily kept up with Keith’s pace, but the slippery floor made it difficult for both to make it out without stumbling.  “I apologize for not answering your text,” Lotor said, only slightly out of breath.  “Sendak broke into the room when I saw it, and I got distracted.”  They reached the front doors and burst into the fresh air of the parking lot, basking under the moonlight.  Water dripped off both of them and gathered in puddles at their feet.  Lotor took a deep breath and laughed, running a hand over his face at the sheer fact that he made it out unscathed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith said.  “You’re alive, that’s what matters.”

Crowds of students filed out of the building, all dressed in various sleepwear.  Some in t-shirts and pajama pants, some in onesies, some in nothing more than their underwear.  All of them looked at least a bit peeved, but Keith could care less.

“Are you alright?” Lotor asked.

Keith laughed with a pained expression.  He felt like he wanted to cry, after the night he’s had.  “You’re the one who was held at gunpoint, and you’re asking _me_ if I’m alright?”

“Well, are you?”

“I’m good, all things considered.  A little shaken, but good.”

“Good,” Lotor said with a smile.  Keith noticed that there was still a slight tremble to his movements.  “Before you ask, I’m doing well.  Much better than my art project, which I’m sure has been destroyed by the sprinklers.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“It wasn’t that far along.  I can restart it easily.”

Keith nodded.  “Good.”  His eyes narrowed as he noticed something small and white moving out of the corner of his eye, and he instinctively swatted the air near Lotor’s face.

Lotor flinched away.  “Is there something you’re trying to accomplish by slapping me?”

“No, I –” Keith’s eyes widened.  “It’s snowing.  There’s snow.”

After a quick look at their surroundings, Lotor smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.  “Indeed, it is,” he said, reaching out to catch a few stray snowflakes.

The gentle white snow came down slowly from the sky, gathering on the black pavement.

In the middle of October, no one expected snow to arrive before the fire department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wraps up the first chapter. Expect updates to be somewhat... sporadic. I'm not sure when the next time I'll get to work on this will be, but hopefully it won't take forever. It all depends on my schedule, inspiration, and mental drive, but I'll do my best not to let this sit unfinished!


	2. Immovable Train on a Moving Track

Smells of bacon, waffles, and hash browns filled the air of the Space Whales Diner.  The atmosphere was homey and welcoming, even if the place seemed a bit greasy and run-down.

Keith sat in a booth with the menu covering his face, waiting impatiently for his friend to arrive.  With every door chime, he lowered the laminated cardstock menu to peak over the top and see who entered or exited, hoping to soon see that head of white hair glide in.

After what felt like an eternity of the same routine, checking who came and went, he spotted Lotor making his way through the entrance and over to where he sat.  He arrived with a smile and a leather satchel hanging over his shoulder, placing it gently on the seat of the booth before making himself comfortable.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” he said, reaching for a menu himself.

“I was only here a few minutes, so no worries,” Keith said.  He set down his own menu and took a sip of his coffee, making sure to blow on it.  “Thanks for coming to breakfast with me.”

“I appreciate the invitation.  Though, I’d hardly call this meal a breakfast.  It is nearing one p.m. – is it not more appropriate to call it ‘brunch’?”  Keith snorted, a smile stretching his lips.  Lotor brought the menu to his face to scan over his options, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he did so.  “Any recommendations on what I should get?”

“They have really good omelettes, if you wanna try that.”

Lotor hummed with interest.  “I think I might.  And what are you ordering?”

“Just the eggs and bacon.”

It only took a little while before a waitress came over to take their orders to the kitchen, dropping off a piping hot cup of tea for Lotor before running off to another table.  Lotor poured in a spoon of honey, whisking the contents as he continued to chat.

“So, Keith,” he began, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about last night.”

From across the table, Keith nodded.  “Sure, go ahead.”

“How did you know where to find me?” Lotor asked.  “I know you must have gone to my dorm first, but the art room is quite a ways away from the boys’ dormitory or the school entrance.”

“It’s kind of a weird story, actually,” Keith said.  He scratched at the side of his face as he thought of the words to say.  No matter how he strung them together, it would still sound much like something out of a child’s fairytale.  “There was this butterfly – like the one we saw at the lighthouse? – and I just followed it.  I led me to the art room, and to you.”

“I see.”  Surprisingly, Lotor didn’t show any signs of disbelief or doubt.  “And how did you know to pull the fire alarm?”

Keith nearly choked.  “That’s – That’s gonna take more explaining.  You see –”

Before he could start, the waitress returned with their food.  The plates were steaming and smelled like _heaven_ to his empty stomach.

Watching Keith practically drool over his food, Lotor chuckled in amusement.  “Maybe we should finish this conversation after we’ve eaten.”

“Yeah,” Keith replied, still dazed by how delicious and crispy the bacon looked, how perfectly cooked the eggs were –

He scarfed the entire plate in five minutes, flat.  Meanwhile, Lotor still had half of his omelette remaining.

“God, the food here is so good,” Keith muttered, downing the rest of his cooled coffee.

“I agree.  The quality is amazing for the price,” Lotor said.  “Now, I believe you were going to explain the events of last night from your perspective?”

Oh, right.  He was going to do that.

“So,” he started, “like I said, I followed that butterfly to the art room.  I saw you there and was about to come in when I noticed that man you were with.  What’s his name –”

“Sendak,” Lotor said coldly.  Even in that single word, pure venom dripped from his voice.  “He’s an associate of my father’s.  Proceed.”

“Right,” Keith continued, a bit shocked by Lotor’s hateful tone, “Sendak.  Anyways, I hid behind the wall and kind of… listened.  Sorry about snooping again, but I didn’t trust that guy.”

Lotor scoffed, looking to Keith’s eyes with understanding.  “As well you shouldn’t.”

“So, I was listening and when I heard him pull that gun on you…”  Keith hesitated for a moment, glancing to his side before ultimately deciding against telling Lotor the truth.  “I ran for the fire alarm and pulled it.  And, yeah.”

He looked back up to meet Lotor’s eyes, flinching when he noticed the other man staring at him.  His gaze was calculating – but not necessarily cold – as it searched Keith’s face for any signs of deception.  His eyes were sharp and intimidating, and Keith could feel unease creeping up his spine with every passing second.

“You said you ran to the fire alarm after he pulled out the gun?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I did.”

“And you managed to find it while in the dark, all the way on the opposite wall from where you must have stood, in less than the ten seconds it would have taken for Sendak to kill me?”

“Yes.”

Lotor leaned back, his face relaxing into a more familiar appearance.  He took a drink of his tea, still warm in its ceramic cup.  “An impressive feat, I’ll admit.”

Keith let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“If it were true, at least.”

_Well, shit._

“Why do you lie to me, Keith?” Lotor asked.  There was the slightest hint of hurt in his voice, something that shot Keith through the heart.

“If I told you the truth, you’d think I was crazy.”

“You’re not crazy, I know that much.  Now, what happened?”

“I,” Keith started, and suddenly his mouth felt ten times drier, “ _I turned back time_.”  His voice was barely a whisper, something barely audible.

Lotor’s eyebrows raised and mouth dropped open the slightest bit.  “Pardon?”

“I turned back time,” Keith repeated.  “Like, I watched everything play out to where Sendak pulled the gun out and shot you –”

“Wait,” Lotor interrupted.  “You watched him shoot me?”

Keith didn’t realize that his hands were shaking.  He tightened them into fists where they rested on the table and bit his lip, trying desperately to hold it together.  They were in the middle of a diner at one of its busiest hours, there were people all over –

A pair of hands slid over his, holding them in a gentle but firm grasp.  Lotor’s touch sent a feeling of stability to his clammy hands and stilled them.  He felt safe, warm, _calm_.

“Y-Yeah, I did.”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did you do it?  How did you turn back time?” Lotor clarified.

“I don’t really know, I just – I reached out for you and everything just started to slow down until… it all went back to before it happened.  You were standing and talking again.”

Lotor pursed his lips together in thought.  “Show me,” he said softly.  It wasn’t an order, but rather, a request.

“I’m not sure how,” Keith admitted.  “What should I do?”

“What’s in my pockets, right now?” he asked.  A small grin pulled at the corner of his lips, shifting the somber mood to a more light-hearted one.  “I want details, Keith.  Be as specific as possible.”

Keith understood this little game he wanted to play.

He decided to play along.

“Well, I’m gonna need to see what’s in those pockets first,” he said snidely.

Lotor sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes in a mocking manner.  “As you wish.”

He emptied his pockets onto the table top, spreading out the meek treasure trove all over its surface.  Keith looked over everything, doing his best to memorize as much as possible.

“You’ve got a lot of change here,” he said, gathering the loose bills and coins Lotor had dropped.  “How much?”

After a moment of quiet counting, Lotor finally responded.  “Three dollars and twenty-seven cents, exactly.  Can you remember that?”

“Probably?”  Keith’s attention shifted to a folded-up piece of paper.  It had been folded about three times, small crinkles made into the glossy paper.  “What about this?  What is it?”

“Oh, it’s a flier someone handed me on my way out of the school building,” Lotor said.  He opened up the paper and turned it to Keith to read.  “It’s for a party this Thursday night, hosted by the Voltron Club.  It’s called the End of the World Party, whatever that nonsense is supposed to mean.”

Keith looked at the fiery red and orange artwork that made up the majority of the poster and tucked it away in his memory.  He then picked up what he guessed were Lotor’s car keys.

“Cool keychain,” he noted, holding up a purple pendant with a strangely familiar symbol.  “Mean anything important?”

“Not really,” Lotor said bluntly.  “Just the logo for my father’s business.”

As he twirled the keys between his fingers, Keith continued to ask more questions.  “What kind of car do you drive?” he asked, holding up the dark gray car key.  It had dark blue and orange details on the sides.

“Lamborghini Aventador SV.  The paint job matches the key.”

Keith’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.  “Damn,” he mumbled.  “I figured you were rich, but… Wow.”

“Sincline was a parting gift from my father when I left London,” Lotor mused, taking the keys from Keith’s hand.  “Although, I’m not sure if the decision was made entirely out of love.  He attempted to bribe me with a better model if I remained at home.”

“He still bought you a luxury sports car,” Keith said.  “That’s pretty generous of him.  And – Hey, wait a sec, you named your car ‘ _Sincline_ ’?”

“Yes?” Lotor asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that Keith thought was absolutely adorable.  “What of it?”

“It’s cute,” Keith said.  He could already feel a bit of warmth at his cheeks.  “That’s all.”

Lotor blinked a few times as he took in what Keith had said, and Keith could have sworn he saw the slightest bit of color on the tips of his ears.  “Oh,” was all that left his mouth.

Keith reached towards Lotor’s wallet, and after receiving a nod for permission to open it, he looked inside and pulled out the other man’s driver’s license.

“Should I remember your birthday or something?”

“How about the expiration date?” Lotor suggested.

With a quick glance at the ID, Keith found his answer and slid the card back into its plastic protector.  He pushed everything back to Lotor and rubbed his hands together, preparing to rewind time for a second time – hopefully.

“Time to get this over with,” he said, holding out his hand as Lotor watched with interest.  “I guess I’ll just reach forward like before and…”

As his fingertips pointed to the ceiling and his palm faced towards Lotor, Keith felt as everything slowly trickled to a stop.  The clock ticking on the wall ceased to move.  The waitress with a dozen plates halted in her spot.  Lotor stared ahead at him with those bright blue eyes, unblinking.

And then, just like before, everything went backwards and reversed until the table top was cleared of all and any of Lotor’s belongings.

“What’s in my pockets, right now?  I want details, Keith.  Be as specific as possible.”

 _I can’t believe that worked_.

“Well, you’ve got some loose change in there,” Keith said with a sly grin.

“And how much is it?”

“Three twenty-seven.”

“Very specific.”

“You asked, right?” Keith teased.

Lotor smiled back at him, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward.  “What else?”

“You have your wallet.”

“Pretty standard,” Lotor noted.  “What’s the expiration date on my driver’s license?  Or do I not even have one?”

Keith narrowed his eyes and leaned in to challenge him.  “You do.  The expiration date is July 21st, five years from now.”

“Interesting.  What else?”

“There’s a flier for the End of the World party by the Voltron club.  It’s got flames all over the front it’s been folded three times over.”

“Date of the party?”

“This Thursday.”

Lotor raised an eyebrow at him.  “Anything else before we check?”

“There’s a set of keys,” Keith said.  “You’ve got a little purple keychain that’s got a bunch of weird points.”  He moved even closer to Lotor so that their faces were barely inches apart, and he could feel Lotor’s breath on his lips.  “And the key to Sincline is gray with blue and orange accents.”  He stared into the deep blue of Lotor’s eyes, and immediately, he knew he had sealed his victory.

“I suppose we should confirm your statements, correct?”  Lotor already began to dump out his pocket contents on the table, sifting through everything to check if Keith’s claims were true.  With each correct ‘guess’ being proven, Lotor’s face gradually shifted from simple astonishment to realization of the weight of what Keith had done.  He sat in silence after poring over the objects, his hands resting still on the tabletop and his eyes glued to the mess in front of him.

With an awkward cough to clear the silence, Keith decided to speak.  “So,” he said, “does everything check out?”

“Everything you said is right,” Lotor said, breathless.  He let out a small laugh of amazement.  “But, how is that possible?  How did you…?”

“Like I said, I don’t know.  It just… happened.”

Lotor looked up at him, eyes wide.  “Have you always had this gift?”

“I’ve never done it before last night,” Keith said.  “I’m not sure if I’ve always been able to do it or if the skill was unlocked somehow, but last night was the first time I used it.”

“Incredible,” Lotor breathed, and his expression was pouring with admiration.  “Have you told anyone else?  Your brother?”

“No one.  Not even Shiro.”

Lotor nodded.  “You shouldn’t give out that information lightly.  I’m honored that you’d trust me with this information after only knowing me for a short while.”

“I trust you,” Keith said, and there wasn’t a hint of untruth.  “I’m not sure why, but I trust you.”

“And I trust you,” Lotor said with a smile.  He glanced suspiciously to the side, his gaze looking over the other customers in the diner.  “Perhaps we should discuss elsewhere,” he suggested in a low voice.

“You’re right.  We need someplace private to talk.  A place where no one can bother us.”

Lotor’s eyes lit up and he grabbed for his keys.  “I think I have the perfect place.”

~~~~~

“So, this is your mom’s old hideout?” Keith asked as he followed an eager Lotor to a small shack.  “And it’s in the junkyard?”

“Yes, she came here for inspiration.  She was a sculptor,” Lotor said.  He trudged around the garbage and loose pieces of rusting metal to get to the opening of the shack, resting in the center of all the chaos.  It stood in a tiny clearing of empty space and had no door.  The walls were built of splintering wood, worn by the rain and winds.  When Lotor entered, he motioned for Keith to join him with the most excited smile Keith had seen on him since they met.  He gained a strange sense of wonder written over his face – of innocence and adventure, as if he were just a child.  “You know,” he said with glassy eyes, “she always found that she was happiest when breathing new life into old junk.”

As he approached, he noticed some large writing on the shack’s outer wall.  Upon closer inspection he found that it wasn’t just writing, but two signatures: one was written in neat and extremely legible handwriting, reading, “ _Honerva was here!_ ”  Underneath was a similar statement, written in the same script Keith had on the back of his self-portrait: “ _Lotor was here._ ”

He had an itching urge to add his own.  He spied Lotor watching him, waiting for him to enter.  However, he wore a smile that told Keith that he knew what he was looking at.

“Hey,” Keith began, pointing to the wall, “can I…?”

“Please,” Lotor said, tossing a marker his way.  Keith caught it in one hand, popping off the cap as he scribbled directly onto the wood.

“ _Keith was here_ ,” he wrote.

With a pleased hum, he came in through the doorway and took a look around.  The walls were covered in old posters of cities around the world: Los Angeles, Tokyo, Paris, London – the latter one was especially bedazzled with stickers and paint swirls.  A series of arrows went from the London poster to a section of the wall with numerous photos of a young woman with dark skin and grayish-blue hair, standing happily with a handsome man of a sturdy build.  The first few showed a blooming friendship, gradually shifting to be more romantic in nature.  The final few on that wall showed the two of them at an airport, with a painted message of “ _Goodbye Altea Bay, I’ll miss you_ ,” scribbled on the wall next to it, a heart attached to the end.

The next wall had a window and more pictures, but these were obviously taken many years later.  There were photos of a wedding, a honeymoon, plenty of date nights and lavish parties – and a few of the woman with a swelling belly, her face lit up with pure elation and love.

Photos of Lotor filled an entire half of the wall, ranging from him as a newborn to him around the same age as now.  Each one had a dozen hearts and swirls, doodles and messages of love.  Some of the little notes talked about how much she missed him and his father, promising to finish her work so that she could return to her new home in London.

Lotor stood at the wall, gently running his fingers over the photos of his once-happy family, a melancholic look swirling in his blue eyes.

The middle of the room had scattered tools and random scraps.  A blowtorch sat on a nearby worktable, along with pliers and metal cutters, things to file down her artwork to rid them of any unwanted and jagged edges.

Sifting between the odds and ends of the room, Keith found a place to sit next to Lotor, who was currently resting in the only empty corner of the room.  He was holding one of the photos he had taken down from the wall: the one of him and his parents at the airport, exchanging goodbyes as his mother prepared for her flight.

“Where is she?” Keith asked in a hushed whisper.  He recalled Lotor saying something last night to Sendak – he called her a witch.  “Did you two have a falling out, or –”

“She’s missing,” Lotor said abruptly, a hint of anger to his voice.  He winced at how he cut Keith off and apologized before continuing.  “A little over a year ago, she returned to Altea Bay for a commissioned work from an old classmate.  Headmaster Alfor, the headmaster at Oriande?  He asked for a statue for the school’s entrance.  He chose her because they were great friends when they attended together, and because she was such a successful alumna of the school.”

Keith nodded to let Lotor know he was listening, urging him to go on.

“When she left, she was very excited.  She lived her entire life here before meeting my father, so even though she considered London her new home, she always had a special place in her heart for Altea Bay.  It’s where she grew up, where she met many of her longtime friends.  It’s where she and my father fell in love.

“But, a part of her knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay here too long without my father and I at her side.  She called every day, and would video call me at almost every hour; it was quite overbearing at the time, but now, I would give anything to have just one minute hearing her voice again.

“It wasn’t until she didn’t call one day that we realized something was wrong.  My father contacted Headmaster Alfor to see if she was alright, but he told us that she hadn’t been seen all day.  She never came in to work on the statue, she never called in sick – she simply vanished.  The police searched everywhere, but they couldn’t find anything on her whereabouts.

A steady stream of tears ran down Lotor’s face, dripping onto the photo as he curled in on himself in a defensive manner.  “They still don’t know where she is.  My father remarried just a few months ago, during the summer.  I’m unsure as to why; he doesn’t seem any happier with her than he was before.  In fact, he hasn’t been very happy at all since my mother’s disappearance.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, and those were the only words he could even string together at this moment.  He remembered seeing the missing person posters scattered across town.  Over the campus walls, the neighborhood streetlamps, the city buildings; he never paid much mind to them before.  Now, the painstakingly familiar memory of a woman whose picture he’s spotted in passing over a hundred times wouldn’t leave him alone.  “I didn’t know.  If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“You couldn’t have known.  Don’t apologize.”

Keith hesitated for a moment before speaking again.  There was still a question in the back of his mind that remained unanswered.  “If… If your mother is missing, who did your father remarry?”

“A woman named Haggar,” Lotor spat.  “She knew my mother.  They were close at one point, I believe, but they drifted apart.  I believe… my father married her for business purposes, not out of love.  And for me; he thought I needed a motherly figure in place of my real one –” He scoffed.  “– but she’s been anything but that.”

“So, that’s who you called a witch last night.”

“Precisely.”  Lotor frowned, turning to Keith.  “Forgive me for dumping all this on you.  The past year has not been kind to me or my family, and simply hearing this must be weighing heavily on you.  I would hate to burden you with my personal troubles.”

Keith rubbed soothing circles into the small of Lotor’s back, scooting closer to the other man until their sides were flush against one another.  “Hey, you told me not to apologize, so now it’s my turn to say the same.  You don’t have to say ‘sorry’ for telling me about your family and what’s hurting you.  I’m kind of glad you did, actually.  I’m happy that you trust me enough to spill all this to me.”

“You already know that I trust you,” Lotor said, wiping his face clean with his sleeves.  “You and I – we already confirmed this, correct?”

“Right,” Keith said, a soft laugh escaping his lips.  “So, is your evil stepmom the reason you were in the art room last night?”

“Yes and no.  She’s part of the reason,” Lotor admitted.  He tucked away the photo of his family into his wallet for safekeeping – Keith spotted the one he took of Lotor still safely kept in there as well.  “If you remember from our first meeting in the school bathroom, my father has been trying ceaselessly to convince me to come home.  He never liked the idea of me attending school so far from him, but I insisted on coming to Oriande.  Not just to look for my mother, but to follow in her footsteps.  My father is nervous for me, afraid that I will earn the same fate as my mother.  The _witch_ is upset that I’m no longer within her reach.

“She called last night, trying once again to get me to come home.  I said no and hung up, but something about our call didn’t sit right with me.  I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the art room to work on my project for class – drawing always calms me down.  That’s when I heard knocking on the door and, well, you can decipher the rest.”

“Sendak broke in, _he_ tried to convince you to leave, then tried to kill you?”

“Yes, precisely.”

They sat in silence for a while, no words exchanged.  Keith’s eyes wandered over the busy walls once more, studying the vast number of photos on the walls.  He paid more attention to them, trying to figure out the context of each picture.  As time passed, he found himself leaning onto Lotor’s figure, his head resting on the latter’s shoulder and his hair tickling his skin.  He could have sworn that he felt Lotor lean into his touch as well, allowing his head to fall onto Keith’s ever so slightly, but it must have been his imagination.

Regardless, he allowed himself to hope, just once, that maybe there was something _real_.

They remained like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it was one that they wished would never end.  The peace, the tranquility, the quietness of it all – it was like a well needed vacation, secluding them from the rest of the world and anything that might disturb and come between them.  It was perfect.

Of course, it didn’t last.  Keith figured that much when they came, that eventually the sun would set, and they’d have to head back to their respective homes.  Lifting his head from Lotor’s shoulder was the equivalent of getting out of bed in the early hours of a Monday, something unwanted, something to be avoided, but sadly, something inevitably necessary.  He only wished they could preserve some more of their time together.

It was almost six in the afternoon, but they chose to take the long route home.  Lotor could get food whenever he felt like it and Shiro tended to serve dinner later in the evening – closer to seven p.m., sometimes eight.  And so, Keith decided to drag Lotor along the train tracks that led straight through the town and around the junkyard, with the miraculously functional tracks so covered in rust to the point where it looked like the metal would snap with a single touch.

Keith sat onto a small section of the tracks, making himself comfortable before completely stretching his body over it.  Lotor stared at him with incredulity.

“Are you sure it’s safe to do that?” he asked.  He seemed scared to even step onto the tracks.

“Yeah.  I come here all the time to relax.  There’s, like, never any trains at this time.”  There was hesitation on Lotor’s part.  “Come on, it’ll be fine,” Keith reassured.  He knitted his eyebrows in concern, offering a soft smile and a hand to his companion.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

Lotor let out a breath that neither of them even knew he was holding.  The worry and fear in his face slowly dripped away, leaving behind the usual cool demeanor he wore.  He settled onto the track to join Keith, lying next to him so that their heads were side by side, yet their legs went in opposite directions.

“You were right,” Lotor said, closing his eyes.  His hands rested over his stomach as he took a deep breath.  “This is surprisingly relaxing.”

“I told you.”

Silence.  It happened for the what was probably the tenth time that day, but just as before, there was no tension, no awkwardness.  Just a mutual understanding that they didn’t need words to enjoy each other’s company.

“I don’t want to return to my dorm,” Lotor said.  His voice was slightly tired, lacking his normal grace and levelness.  It was soft, and Keith was sure that he could fall asleep to that voice.

“Then don’t.”

A laugh rung through the air.  “Tempting, but I must.”

“Just… stay.  Stay a bit longer.”

“Hm.”

Lotor didn’t say anything after that.  Keith figured they had once again fallen into the trough of their cycle – the continuous rise and fall of their speech.  He assumed that they had reached that moment of silence where they would simply be content, no words needed.

When he turned his head to look at Lotor, he found that that wasn’t exactly the case.  Lotor had dozed off, his breathing slow and steady as he slept soundly on the metal track.  His hair was blown gently by the wind, his long lashes were clearly visible from this close up.

Keith sighed and rested his hands behind his head, letting his mind drift and his eyes flutter shut.

Lotor had the right idea about getting a nap.

~~~~~

“Keith!  Keith, wake up!”

He was jolted awake by a panicked voice.  Lotor shook his shoulder roughly and was yelling into his ear, a minor tremble evident in his speech.

“W-What?  Is it late?” Keith asked quickly.  He stood up from the track and brushed off his pants.  His heart was racing.  He stole a glance at the sky, his eyes being met with mostly blue.  It must still be before seven, so why was Lotor rushing?

His questions were answered when Lotor opened his mouth to respond.  The other man still sat on the track.  “There’s a train coming!”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Then he heard it.  The distant sound of a train whistle, the rumbling of the railroad tracks.  If he looked closely enough, he could spot the line of smoke rising from what must be the train itself.  Keith moved away from the track, ready to bolt to Lotor’s car and head home.

Lotor followed in his stead, pushing himself off the ground with an impressive amount of force, taking a huge step away from the tracks and –

He fell.  His upper body moved too fast and he slipped back to the ground, his hands cushioning his fall.  Keith watched in horror and felt his blood run cold when he realized what had happened.

Part of Lotor’s boot was stuck to the track.

Neither really knew how it happened – it didn’t even seem possible – but the proof was there.  The laces were somehow hooked onto a loose piece of a jagged track rung.  Lotor tugged on the bar, but it wouldn’t budge.  He tried to untie his laces to remove the shoe, but they were so tangled that it just created a bigger mess of knots.  His face twisted into something not unlike dread –

It was the same look he had when he faced Sendak.

“Keith!” he yelled, turning towards him with the most terrified expression Keith had ever witnessed.  His eyes were glossy, and streaks ran down his face.  “I can’t – It won’t come loose!”

He cursed under his breath and ran back towards Lotor, skidding to a stop as he dropped to the ground by his feet.  He grabbed at the metal bar and pulled with every ounce of strength in him, Lotor helping as well.  He was still stuck.  Keith then clawed at the laces, desperately trying to rip them apart to free his friend from the strange jail bars holding him captive.  But the laces were like tightly spun silk – nearly impossible to break.

Lotor shook his head, the sounds of the train getting louder with every passing second.  “It’s no use.  There has to be another way.”  He tried to convince Keith that they could still save him – that they could make it out okay – but they both knew that he was trying to convince himself just as much.

“I’ll look around,” Keith said frantically.  He looked around the area, his eyes lighting up when he spotted a station room nearby.  He forced his legs to function as he launched himself towards the door, only to find it locked.  “Damn it!” he hissed, sending a harsh punch to the door before searching for another way.  His hand would hurt later, but now, he was high on adrenaline and he felt a different kind of pain that far outweighed a scratched fist.

A crowbar.  He grabbed it and ran towards the door like a warrior with a spear, letting out a cry as he jabbed it into the crack between the door itself and the frame.  He wedged it as far as it would go, then pushed with all he had.  The door was pried open and he hurried inside.

“Keith, the train’s coming!” Lotor yelled.  Keith didn’t know how it was possible, but he sounded more scared than before.  Keith winced at the sound of his voice.  “Please, hurry!”

The control panel was one of the most confusing things he had ever seen.  His eyes glazed over the buttons, not registering anything, like when he zoned out in the middle of a book and had to read the passage multiple times before absorbing the meaning.  His brain was too scattered.  He couldn’t focus.

He began pressing buttons at random.  One of them had to do something helpful, right?  He clicked as many as he could and from his view through the window, he could see some lights from the signs changing color.  It must’ve meant that his button-mashing was doing _something_ , at least.

Then it came.  The telltale shaking of the ground, the low and airy sound of a train whistle, followed by the train itself.

Lotor paled.  That much, Keith could see.  Honestly, he was glad that was _all_ he could see.

From the track, Lotor took a gulp, his lip quivering.  “Keith!”

Keith slammed his hands onto the panel, wanting to rip every single one of the buttons out, because out of the hundreds of different functions they must’ve had, they didn’t have the _right_ one.

“Keith, please!”

He picked up the crowbar, which he had abandoned upon entering the room, and stabbed it into the control panel out of rage.  A pained cry escaped his lips and he felt the world collapsing on him as the train came to pass.

“KEITH!”

He pressed his hand to the window.  He pressed _hard_ – partly for stability, partly out of anger.  With fearful eyes, he lifted his gaze from the floor to his hands.  Just barely through the cracks of his fingers, through the cloudy glass of the window –

Red and white.  Red was the color that dominated.  There was silence, but for the first time, it wasn’t welcome.

_Please work.  Please._

The world was swept away before Keith’s eyes.  His hand remained on the window as the train backed up to half a mile down the track.  The crowbar landed back on the floor.  The control panel was untouched.

“Keith, the train’s coming!  Hurry!”

A sigh of relief.  But he wasn’t done yet.

Keith picked up the crowbar and ran back towards the train track to where he should’ve gone in the first place – the railroad switch.  How he didn’t notice earlier must’ve been a result of his scrambling for a solution, the most obvious answers fading to the background.  He held the crowbar tightly in his hands, reeling it back, then –

 _Bang!_   He struck the switch sign, getting it to slightly move back.  The sign was stiff and unused; trains rarely ever took the second track since it eventually led to the same place as the first.  The difference was that the second track took nearly twice as long since it passed by another train station in addition to the first, a train station that has long since been abandoned.  The switch sign probably hadn’t been used in at least a decade.

He hit it again, swinging at it with the force of a charging bull.  The sign bent even more.

“Keith!”

Swing after swing.  Hit after hit.

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

The old crowbar was cutting into his hands from his tight grip, the edges sharp and a little jagged.  Blood dripped from his palms and made it slippery, but he was determined.

“Keith, please!”

 He landed a final blow to the switch, screaming as the crowbar fell from his hands and he crumpled to the ground with a cry.

The railroad switch made a loud _ding!_ and the rails switched over.  The train passed by him, blowing dirt into his face.  Keith looked over his shoulder at Lotor, his teeth clenched.

Lotor curled in on himself and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

But, the train passed by him with only a strong tussle of his hair as it took the alternate route.

He was okay.  Lotor was okay.

Keith wobbled to his feet and again took the crowbar, groaning when he suddenly registered the pain he had been ignoring this entire time.

He stumbled towards Lotor on the track, using the crowbar to try and cut his laces loose.  It was tedious work and definitely took longer than expected; it was a solid ten minutes before they could get Lotor out.  When he was finally freed, he launched himself at Keith.

His arms wrapped around the smaller man tightly, nearly suffocating him.  Full-out tears were running down his cheeks and his face was buried into the crook of Keith’s neck.  He wrapped his own arms around Lotor as well, mindful not to get any blood on his shirt.

“Thank you,” Lotor whispered.  “Thank you so much, Keith.”

Keith didn’t say anything, but a thousand thoughts flooded his brain.  The most prominent thought was a hope that he held deep in his heart: the hope that Lotor would’ve done the same thing for him.

When Lotor pulled back to look Keith in the face, Keith could get a true read on his expression.  Gratefulness, amazement, and –

Fondness?  No, it must have been in his head.

Keith smiled.  It was something he found easy to do around Lotor.  “You’re alive,” he said.  It could barely be heard.

“Only because of you.  You know, we should really stop getting into situations like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, situations where I nearly die, and you have to save me.  It’s quite an inconvenience, don’t you think?”

Keith laughed.  “Definitely.”

Then, he noticed the sky.  It was darker.  But the train hadn’t passed that long ago, and when they woke up, there was still blue.  So, why had the area turned ten times dimmer?

Both of them looked up and their jaws dropped when they saw it.

The sun was being slowly covered by a black circle – the moon.

“Was there supposed to be solar eclipse today?” Keith asked.  He figured that Lotor seemed like the kind of person who would know that stuff.

“No, the nearest one was estimated to be nine months from now.”  Of course, he knew.

“Then, what’s going on?”

Lotor’s grip on Keith tightened.  “I’m not sure.  But maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign for what?”

He turned his head back to Keith and cupped his hand on the other’s cheek, gently pushing him to face him.  There was a certain tenderness in his eyes, his smile, his entire essence.  “A sign that we survived yet another day together.  Maybe it’s in honor of your valiant rescue, doing all in your power to save me.”

Keith smiled.  “Well, someone has to save the prince in distress, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly crawling my way to the end of the school year when I can finally have some free time, but I've been working on this chapter for a while now so I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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